


Missing (What You Never Really Had)

by zeldadestry



Category: Young Adult (2011)
Genre: Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 07:56:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeldadestry/pseuds/zeldadestry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They talk on the phone sometimes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing (What You Never Really Had)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [juiceboxhero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/juiceboxhero/gifts).



They talk on the phone sometimes and Mavis has trouble stopping, once she gets started, because, although Matt likes to call her on her shit, she never feels like he’s looking down on her about it. “So I’m trying this new thing, where I only let myself drink beer or wine, no liquor. I mean, everyone’s gotta start somewhere, right? And remember- you know how you’re always giving me shit about how I should get some therapy? I mean, talk about deflection, hello, you totally need it more than I do. Well, I dunno, but I went to see this woman, just once, she’s not a doctor or anything, she’s, like, a consultant, for artistic types, for artists, because, you know, we’re not like other people. We’re more sensitive, vulnerable. But she said, she told me maybe I was depressed because my books didn’t have my name on them, and I was like, yeah, totally! I do all the work, why shouldn’t I get all the credit? Anyway, so I started something, not for, like, the money, because I do make a lot of money with the YA stuff, you know I do, but now it’s time to write something just for me, something that has my name on the cover, something I can really show off, you know? It’s serious. Literary. I’ll probably need to get a new agent, someone who can really appreciate art, because people who know the business, they never understand the other side.”

“You’re a misunderstood genius, alright.” 

“See, you get me. So, anyway. What about you? Mercury still slowly sucking the life out of everyone there?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much exactly how you left it.” 

“And you?”

“Are you trying to seem less selfish or do you actually give a shit?”

“Both.”

“I’m ok. My head’s been bothering me. That’s actually- I’m going to be in Minneapolis in a few weeks, to see a doctor, a new specialist.” 

“Sucks.”

“Yeah, well, if he can help, just some, you know? I don’t expect any miracles, just want to feel a little better.”

“Yeah. Ok.” There’s silence then, stretching out, and she knows how she should fill it, even though she’s not sure what she wants. “We’ll grab a drink or dinner or something.” 

“Sure, sounds good,” he says, but somehow she can tell he doesn’t believe her, doesn’t really expect her to follow through.

“You can stop by. I’ll cook for you.”

“You cook?”

“Not really. Spaghetti. That’s easy, right? We drink enough wine, everything should taste good.”

“But no whiskey.”

“Right, no whiskey.”

“You’re not fun anymore.”

“No kidding. I’m still fucking gorgeous, though.”

“Yeah? You talk a good game but I’m gonna have to see for myself.”

“Asshole,” she says, and hangs up on him.

 

She doesn’t try too hard, the evening he’s supposed to visit, but she does change out of her sweats into a long-sleeved black dress, brush her hair, apply lipstick, and walk through a spray of perfume. He’s gonna think she looks amazing, no matter what, right? But there’s no excuse for looking like a pathetic slob in front of company. She bought fresh pasta and sauce from a nearby store, so that should taste good, and why should she be worrying about it, anyway? She doesn’t care what he thinks, she doesn’t care what anyone thinks. She’s a badass. She’s awesome. When she hears the knock at the door, she wipes her sweaty hands off on her skirt.

 

“So,” she says, as soon as they’ve sat down for dinner, because, really, she can’t wait any longer, it’s ridiculous, the first fuckin thing he should’ve said to her was how amazing she is. “How do I look?”

Matt finishes chewing his mouthful and swallows. “Uh-”

“I know I look great, but you could at least compliment me.”

“You look fantastic.” He touches a hand to his chest. “And me?”

“You look nice,” she says. “I mean, you don’t look sick.” He rolls his eyes. “Well, you don’t!” She fills his glass of wine. “Did it go ok with the doctor?”

“Preliminary results inconclusive. He gave me a new prescription to help with the pain.”

“Drugs. Lucky you.”

“Right, lucky me.”

 

After dinner, she shows him around the apartment, not that there’s much to see. 

“So is this where you work?” he asks, pointing to her desk.

“Yeah, that’s where the magic happens,” she says, and wishes anyone would believe it.

“Tell me about it.”

“What?”

“What you’re writing.”

“Oh, it’s this new series about good nymphomaniac teen vampires and sorcerers who secretly protect the world from evil nymphomaniac teen vampires and sorcerers.”

“The important part is that they’re all nymphomaniacs?”

She winks at him. “I can really bang out a sex scene.”

“But your name’s not on the cover.”

“As long as it says Mavis Gary on the checks they write me, who cares?”

“What about the other book?”

“What?” She can feel her cheeks heating.

“Your literary masterpiece.”

“Oh, that.” She shrugs. “It’s ok.” She moves away from him, towards the window, lets herself imagine that he’s not in the room with her, that it’s like talking on the phone, she doesn’t have to see him, she won’t know if he thinks she’s stupid, if he’s laughing at her. “I mean, the manuscript itself? It’s fabulous. But, the process? It’s a little more difficult than ghostwriting. See, with my series? They send me the plot, so I fit the story together, yeah, but I already know everything. I know the end and I can- like if I know something bad is gonna happen to one of the characters, I can just stop caring about them.” 

“And you like that?”

She’s had three and a half glasses of wine. It’s really not enough for her to be drunk, no, but it’s enough to say she was drunk as an excuse, if she ever needs one. “Well, yeah. Think about if life was like that. If I’d known it would end up this shitty, I could’ve just not tried, like if I’d known my marriage was gonna go so bad, I wouldn’t have shown up for the wedding. I could’ve saved myself a lot of effort.” She’s worried he’s gonna say something about Buddy, but he doesn’t, and she relaxes, turns around and joins him on the couch, sits down close to him without second guessing the impulse. She started the book not long after she returned to Minneapolis from Mercury. In its own way, it’s much more of a fantasy than anything she ever wrote for the YA market, it’s her attempt to actually flesh out her daydream of what life with Buddy would’ve been like. Because when she made the trip- back there - she’ll never think of it as home - she wasn’t thinking, she just wanted, so bad it made her whole body tense, jolt of adrenaline any time she thought she was getting closer to what she sought. But whenever she looks at the story, fills in how their futures might actually be, all she faces is doubt. She doesn’t want to live there, no, but she can’t picture Buddy here, either. “Do you ever think about kids? A family?”

“Is that a proposition?”

“No. Gross,” she says, but leans into him so he knows she doesn’t mean it.

“I think about it. But I think about a lot of things that I don’t have.”

“Yeah. It’s like that for me, too. I mean- do I want it or is it just something I think about because I don’t have it?” 

“It could be both. I think it is for me.”

“Yeah.” She lets her head rest on his shoulder, closes her eyes. “I’m tired,” she admits. 

“I can go,” he says, but his hand strokes through her hair.

“You don’t have to.”

“My sister, she’s coming with me to the city, next time. She would’ve been here for this, she rearranged her shifts at work and everything, but she got sick.” Mavis nods her head to show she’s listening. “You know she’s gonna want to see you. She thinks you’re the coolest chick in the world.”

“Yeah, ok. We can hang. I’ll take her shopping, to the clubs, she’d like that, right? I mean I know you don’t have any real stores or nightlife in Mercury, so. Yeah. I can show her a good time, the glamorous life.”

“And get your ass thoroughly kissed in the process.”

“We all need a fan club.” She rests a careful hand on his thigh, just above his knee. I don’t want to hurt you, she thinks. And I don’t want to hurt myself, either, not anymore. I’ve been doing it for so long, it’s my deepest habit, my very best friend, but there must be some other way through this. She lifts her head from his shoulder, sits back so that she can see him. “So when will you be back?” 

“My follow up’s in April.”

“Ok. I guess I’ll see you then.” He doesn’t answer, he’s just watching her. “What?”

“Nothing.” He covers her hand with his own, soft and warm. “I’ll see you then.”


End file.
